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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299093">my lover’s got humor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/malreves/pseuds/permets'>permets (malreves)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>You Could Make a Life Series - Taylor Fitzpatrick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, just some cute fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:08:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,199</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/malreves/pseuds/permets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey and Scratch make some cookies for charity! Chaos ensues</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joey Munroe/Nick Angelopoulos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>my lover’s got humor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/problemlikelauren/gifts">problemlikelauren</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Money,” Scratch’s voice comes from behind the giant brown paper bag he’s holding that covers his face. “Can you–” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey all but dives forward to grab the bag from him and set it on the counter. “Jesus Scratch, you didn’t have to get all of this, I must have had some of it in my cupboards.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now that his face is visible, Scratch just raises an eyebrow at Joey, not deigning to respond. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey hmphs and goes to start setting out mixing bowls and the new scale he will definitely not be telling Scratch he had to order for delivery from Target when he realized he didn’t have enough time to run to the store and pick one up </span>
  <em>
    <span>after </span>
  </em>
  <span>he had assured Scratch he owned one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two of them were supposed to make cookies for a fundraising event that involved the Scouts providing baked goods to bring about awareness for food scarcity. Scratch can’t imagine that what it is that they’re going to make is going to be all that edible but it’s for a good cause and he gets to spend more time with Scratch so really it’s a win-win. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratch pulls up the recipe for the chocolate chip cookies on his phone while Joey starts setting out the ingredients on the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey put in his teeth today and he’s still getting used to wearing it whenever he thinks Scratch is coming over and they’re gonna make out, because it feels so weird kissing without it, but it makes his mouth feel so heavy when he has it in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop internally bitching about your teeth.” Scratch says without looking up from his phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey pulls a face. “How did you–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You keep running your tongue over your front teeth, Money. I’m not stupid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey hmphs for the second time and his mouth twists up in an effort not to suck at his teeth with his tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratch smirks and sets his phone on the little shelf thing Casey gifted Joey last year and starts reading off the weights of the ingredients. Joey will also absolutely never admit that after Scratch had told him, more excited than Joey had seen him in a while, that he had found the perfect recipe for pinwheels from his favourite pastry chef, Joey had gone out and bought those small glass bowls he always saw on Tasty and Tastemade that people held ingredients in for their baking endeavor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah, Money, I didn’t know you had these?” Scratch says, picking up one of the smallest of the bowls and examining it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey tries to hide the smile that emerges. “Yeah they were in the back of the cupboards somewhere.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratch looks up at him, both eyebrows raised. “You’re a dirty liar, Money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey does not immediately turn bright red. He does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratch, of course, cracks up, and Joey on instinct takes a handful of flour from the bag and throws it at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flour makes a mess, settling in Scratches curls, covering his face, and coating his eyelashes. Scratch spits and sputters as he tries to get the flour out of his mouth and now it’s Joey’s turn to laugh at how ridiculous Scratch looks. Scratch isn’t having it, and reaches out blindly, grabbing the first thing he touches (the powdered sugar) and tosses a handful at Joey’s open mouth, causing him to cough up a puff of white powder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now who's laughing?” Scratch shouts, blindly feeling his way towards the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey’s still spitting out sugar, his mouth filled with a saccharine, cloying taste, when Scratch gently steers him to the bathroom. “Shower. I’ll get the kitchen cleaned up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though Joey showered before Scratch came over, he dutifully hops in and and gets rid of the sugar that has somehow made it into his boxers, and comes out to a clean kitchen and a note from Scratch informing him that he’s gone to take a shower and the least Joey can do is measure out the ingredients while he’s gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey dutifully measures out the sugar, flour, brown sugar, milk, and chocolate chips; he figures the smaller stuff they can do on the fly. He makes sure the eggs are in no jeopardy of falling off the edge of the counter, and busies himself by picking out a holiday music playlist to have on in the background while they bake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, no more throwing ingredients, alright?” Scratch’s voice precedes him, and Joey can’t help the shit eating grin on his face at his arrival. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratch just rolls his eyes and starts out on the cookies, mixing the flour, baking soda and salt. He creams together two sticks of butter, adding both sugars and the eggs. Once everything looks nice and blended he adds the vanilla and gently begins to incorporate the flour mixture. Joey hands him ingredients as he asks for them, and generally stays out of Scratch’s way as he combines the ingredients in a running mixer to avoid another flour fiasco. As cookies go they’re pretty basic, but Joey can only begin to imagine how much they’ll go for when the PR team announces that Scratch and Joey made them from, well, scratch (he snorts a bit at the pun he doesn’t say out loud).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Scratch asks, raising an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.” Joey replies, too quickly. Scratch raises his other eyebrow. Stupid Scratch and his independently able to be raised eyebrows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it, Money.” Scratch’s voice sounds tired. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, they’re made from scratch. Get it?” Joey says, unsuccessfully keeping a giggle in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes a moment, but eventually Scratch’s stoic face cracks and he groans. “Money, that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrible</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey giggles again. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratch just rolls his eyes and throws a dish towel at Joey (which he catches), before reaching for the trays Joey had set out earlier and cutting parchment paper for each of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Joey starts dutifully balling up little cookies and handing them to Scratch for expert placement on the trays to keep them from melting into each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the cookies are in the oven and Scratch has set a timer on his phone, they go into the living room to curl up on the couch and just chill out for a while. They’re in between travel, a blissful week at home in the middle of December, and it feels so nice to just sit and be a lump together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Money,” Scratch says, shifting so he’s facing Joey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna make out?” Now Scratch has a shit eating grin on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratch’s Recipe for Joey-Proof Chocolate Chip Cookies</span>
</p><ul>
<li><span>2 ¼ cups (288 grams) of all purpose flour </span></li>
<li><span>1 tsp salt </span></li>
<li><span>1 tsp baking soda</span></li>
<li><span>2 sticks (1 cup/227 grams) butter (room temp)</span></li>
<li><span>¾ cup (165 grams) of (packed if cup) brown sugar </span></li>
<li><span>¾ cup (150 grams) of granulated/white sugar </span></li>
<li><span>1-2 cups (170-340 grams) chocolate chips</span></li>
<li><span>1 tsp vanilla </span></li>
<li><span>2 eggs, room temp </span></li>
</ul><p> </p><ol>
<li><span>Mix together the flour, salt, and baking soda. Set aside. </span></li>
<li><span>Cream together the butter, both sugars, and eggs.</span></li>
<li><span>Add the vanilla to the creamed mixture. </span></li>
<li><span>Add the dry ingredients and gently mix. </span></li>
<li><span>Add chocolate chips. </span></li>
<li><span>Bake at 375F until golden brown, typically 7-9 minutes. </span></li>
</ol>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hmu on <a>le twit</a> for some feels</p></blockquote></div></div>
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